


everybody wants a taste, that's why

by LiveSincerely



Series: Tease [5]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alley Sex, Established Relationship, I'm Sorry for Nothing, Jack gets jealous and proceeds to WRECK Davey in an alley, M/M, Oblivious David Jacobs, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Jack Kelly, Possessive Sex, no period-typical homophobia because i said so, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26557696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveSincerely/pseuds/LiveSincerely
Summary: “Oh, I’m sure you’re just tryin’ to be helpful sweetheart,” Jack says, his fingers curling around Davey’s hip. “But Fisher here is definitely hopin’ for somethin’ more than an analysis of his finances. There ain’t nothin’ friendly ‘bout the way he’s been starin’ at your ass whenever your back is turned.”Davey blinks, completely caught off guard. He waits for Fisher to laugh off the accusation, but instead he simply shrugs.“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’.”Jack’s face splits into something that could be a smile, but looks more like a wolf baring its teeth.“‘Course not,” Jack says, in a tone of voice that says he absolutely plans to blame Fisher for trying.Or: Jack gets jealous
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Series: Tease [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/763110
Comments: 10
Kudos: 148





	everybody wants a taste, that's why

Davey’s just finalizing the meeting plans when Jack sidles up next to him and wraps an arm around his waist.

“Jack!” he says, turning towards him. “Have you met Fisher? He’s with the Newsies over in East Queens. We’re working on plans to shore up their emergency funds; can I borrow Racer and Specs tomorrow? I think we can hash out a few… Jack?”

Davey trails off uncertainly. Jack and Fisher are looking at each other—staring each other down, really. Jack’s jaw is clenched and Fisher’s expression has turned assessing, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

“You’re makin’ plans to meet with Queens?” Jack’s question is directed at Davey but he doesn’t look at him, still pinning Fisher with a steely stare. “Gonna spend some quality time with Fishy here?”

“Yes?” Davey answers cautiously, not sure what to make of the thinly veiled hostility in Jack’s voice. “Queens is having a couple of issues that he thought I could help out with. The next union meeting isn’t until later this month, but I figured we could just go ahead and start working on a—“

“Oh, I’m sure you’re just tryin’ to be helpful sweetheart,” Jack says, his fingers curling around Davey’s hip. “But Fisher here is _definitely_ hopin’ for somethin’ more than an analysis of his finances. There ain’t nothin’ _friendly_ ‘bout the way he’s been starin’ at your ass whenever your back is turned.”

Davey blinks, completely caught off guard. He waits for Fisher to laugh off the accusation, but instead he simply shrugs. 

“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’.”

Jack’s face splits into something that could be a smile, but looks more like a wolf baring its teeth. 

“‘Course not,” Jack says, in a tone of voice that says he absolutely plans to blame Fisher for trying, “but I’m sure you understand why I had’ta set ya straight?”

“Of course,” Fisher says. He nods to Jack, then looks back to Davey, his expression a little sheepish. “We really could use some help with the money stuff though—I wasn’t makin’ that part up.”

Jack considers him, then his expression finally begins to thaw. He turns to Davey and asks, “You made plans to meet tomorrow?”

Davey’s still so stunned by the revelation that Fisher was flirting with him that it takes him a moment to respond. “Yeah, at the Queens complex at 7.”

“Well, feel free to drag Racer and Specs along if you think you’ll need ‘em,” Jack says. “Racer’ll bitch about missing poker night but he’ll live.”

Davey clears his throat. “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Great. Then if you’re all finished”—Jack starts gently tugging Davey away—“we should start headin’ back. It’s gettin’ late.”

Jack gives Fisher a perfunctory nod. “Fisher.”

“Kelly,” Fisher says, chagrined.

Davey bites back his first instinct, which is to tell Fisher that it was nice to meet him, because he’s not sure if it’s true and because he doubts that Jack will appreciate the sentiment. He settles for a little wave goodbye, then lets Jack lead him out, a hand splayed against the small of his back.

They make it about four blocks. Then Jack hooks his fingers around one of Davey’s suspenders and drags him into an empty, darkened alleyway.

Jack utterly blindsides him, slanting their mouths together in a bruising, frantic, domineering inferno of a kiss. He shoves Davey up against the alley wall, cups a hand around the back of his head and bites at his lower lip, and Davey’s barely aware of grabbing at Jack’s shoulders and returning the kiss until he already is, a moan building in the back of his throat.

“I take my eyes off of you for one second,” Jack eventually says, coaxing Davey to wrap a leg around his thigh, then pressing a hand to Davey’s tailbone so he can grind their hips together. “For one _fucking second_ and the next thing I know some fucker from Queens is tryin’ to slither into your good graces.”

“I didn’t realize,” Davey says, rolling his body against Jack’s, his hands fisted in the front of Jack’s shirt. “I didn’t even notice—“

“Whip smart and goddamn gorgeous,” Jack rasps out. He plunders Davey’s mouth like he’s got something to prove, his grip like iron around Davey’s waist. “Of course they all wanna piece of ya."

He licks back into Davey’s mouth, then continues, “But the _fucking gall_ of that bastard, tryin’ to flirt with ya when I’m right there, just a few feet away—“

“Maybe—“ Davey groans after a particularly heady thrust of Jack’s hips. “—Maybe he didn’t know?”

Jack leans back the barest amount. In the dim light Davey can just make out his eyes, simmering with heat and hunger. “Then I guess I gotta make sure they know.”

He reaches up and turns Davey’s head to the side, then starts working a bruise just underneath the curve of Davey’s jaw, too high to be hidden by any of his shirts.

“Jack,” Davey says, or maybe pleads, as he realizes Jack’s intention. “Jack, its—oh, _fuck, Jack_ —it’s fine, you’re mine and I’m yours, you don’t have to stake your claim—“

“Clearly I fucking do,” Jack says, and there’s the pleasure-pain of Jack’s teeth scraping along the tendon in Davey’s neck—Davey shivers at the sensation. “‘Cause some of these bastards don’t seem to have gotten the memo.”

“Jack,” Davey whines, but he’s breathless and panting, his voice threaded with need. “You are… _the worst_.” 

He pushes at Jack’s shoulders in half-hearted protest. Jack _growls_ in response, pressing Davey harder into the brick of the alley and nipping even more viciously at his throat, and Davey’s helpless to do anything but melt into him with a gasping sigh, tilting his head further to give Jack more access.

Jack bites at Davey’s neck one last time, then crushes their mouths together again. They kiss and kiss and kiss, until Davey can’t tell which moans are his and which are Jack’s, bodies moving together in delicious friction.

“I wanna touch you,” Jack murmurs, fingers dancing against Davey’s belt buckle. “Can I touch you?”

It’s a dangerous idea, but Davey’s too far gone to care. “ _Yeah_.”

Jack has his hand shoved down the front of Davey’s slacks in an instant and Davey can’t help a whimper, thrusting into Jack’s fist.

“Fuck, Jack,” he manages to say. “I’m not gonna—“

“Mine,” Jack whispers, lips brushing along the shell of Davey’s ear. _“You’re mine._ ”

Davey barely manages to choke back a cry, shuddering and trembling as he comes down from his high. He’s faintly aware of Jack’s eyes on him, of Jack rutting desperately against his thigh before following him over the edge.

Jack pulls him in for another kiss, slow and loving. Then, finally, they separate. Jack’s expression is a masterwork in self-satisfaction—all smug vindication and possessive pleasure. Davey rolls his eyes but loops his arms around Jack’s shoulders to keep him close.

“I hate you,” Davey complains, letting his head fall back against the bricks behind him. “I can’t believe we have to walk back to Manhattan like this.”

“Stop flirting with other people and I won’t have to wreck you in any more alleyways,” Jack says.

“I wasn’t flirting—!” Davey starts, hotly. Jack interrupts him with a chuckle.

“I know, Davey,” he says. “I’m just kiddin’, I know you wouldn’t do that to me.” His thumbs grazes over what must be a massive hickey on Davey’s neck—Davey already dreads having to explain it away. “Do me a favor and make sure Fishy gets a good look at this tomorrow, yeah?”

“Jealous bastard,” Davey says fondly. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Hey, he’s the one gettin’ ideas in his head! I’m just makin’ sure we’s all on the same page.”

“Uh huh,” Davey says, unimpressed. “Sure. By the way, you’re the one that gets to come up with an explanation when my parents ask me why it looks like I’ve been strangled.”

“Aw, Dave!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Come hang out with me on tumblr @livesincerely.
> 
> Thanks to @deliciouspeachpirate on tumblr for sending the ask that inspired this <3


End file.
